Death by Devil's Breath (29 page)

I laughed. “No worries. There’s a lot to like about Chandra’s and I figured being close by was better than you staying all the way downtown at the hotel.” I didn’t bother to explain that technically,
all the way
downtown
was less than a mile. “Chandra’s so excited to have a guest. She’s . . .” I wondered how to explain and decided it was best just to lay things on the line. Since Fiona would know all about Chandra soon enough—Chandra would make sure of that—she might as well get the truth from me.

“Chandra’s our resident crystal and tarot card reader,” I warned Fiona. “If you have any problem—”

The kid actually skipped across the next few feet of lawn. “This is going to be so much fun! I read tarot, too. And I meditate every evening. I have for years. It sounds like Chandra and I will have a lot in common.”

I didn’t doubt it, especially when Chandra’s front door flew open and a plume of patchouli incense streamed outside. It was quickly followed by Chandra, resplendent (as always) that day in an orange turban that hid her bobbed blond hair and showed her earrings—witch hats studded with purple beads—to the best advantage. The earrings looked just right with her diaphanous purple top painted with orange jack-o’-lanterns and cute black cats.

Cats.

I couldn’t help myself. I automatically looked around for my nemesis, but Jerry was nowhere to be seen. I indulged in a moment of obsessing. Where was the little dickens? And when would he leap out and ambush me?

I never had a chance to speculate further.

Chandra took one look at Fiona—and that T-shirt she wore with the icy EGG logo—and her welcoming smile vanished in a flash.

“EGG? Bea, you didn’t tell me EGG was here again.”

I wasn’t sure who was suddenly more pale, Chandra or Fiona.

The kid backstepped away from the house. “I . . . I can stay s-somewhere else. I don’t want to . . . want to inconvenience you . . . or . . . or anything . . . or . . .”

Feeling a bit as if the sidewalk had been pulled out from under me, I put a hand on the kid’s shoulder to keep her from bolting. “EGG’s been to South Bass before?” I asked Chandra.

Chandra is nothing if not the friendliest and the most accepting of all the people I’d met on the island. With a start, she realized she’d made Fiona uncomfortable and she smiled. Or at least she tried.

“I don’t remember you from last year.” Chandra stuck out a hand and, as if she wasn’t sure what was going to happen when she took it, Fiona stepped forward for a quick shake. “Sorry! I was just surprised to see your shirt. That’s all. Bea, you didn’t tell me EGG was back.”

I hoped my laugh didn’t sound as phony as it felt. “I didn’t know this was a return visit. Besides, EGG might have been here, but Fiona never has. She’s new with EGG.” Did the look I gave Chandra send the right message? That we had to make sure Fiona felt welcome and at home?

“Sorry.” Chandra’s weak little laugh was an echo of my own. “I just . . . oh, never mind!” She backed up a step to allow Fiona to walk in the house. “Come on in and we’ll make a pot of white tea. How does that sound? It’s nice and mild and fruity and—”

“I love white tea!” Fiona turned misty eyes toward me. “Thank you, Bea. I think I’m going to like it here. And sorry . . .” She turned that puppy dog look on Chandra. “I’m sorry I surprised you.”

Peace.

I was grateful for it, even if I was a little confused by Chandra’s reaction to her guest.

I promised myself I’d have a talk with Chandra, told them both I’d see them later, and headed back home only to find Noreen rearranging the equipment. Again.

I poked my head into the parlor. “Need anything?”

“No, we’re all set. At least for now.” Noreen set down her clipboard, picked it up, swiped a hand over the top of the case where she’d just deposited it, and set it down again. “We’re anxious to get started, of course.”

“You never told me . . .” I looked around at the equipment cases and cameras. “You’ve been here before. What exactly are you doing back here on the island?” I asked Noreen.

She barked out a laugh. “Elkhart Ghost Getters?” She looked at me hard. “You’ve never heard of us? Well, it doesn’t matter,” she decided even before I could tell her she was right. “We’re paranormal investigators.”

It all made sense now: the thermal cameras and the Mel meters and such. Though I was not a fan of reality TV shows of any kind, I didn’t live under a rock. I knew cable television was fat with shows that followed the adventures of crews who were out to prove—or disprove—the existence of things that go bump in the night.

“You’re filming a TV show.” It never hurts to state the obvious.

Noreen nodded. “Not just a show. The first episode of our new series.”

“And you’re doing it here on South Bass?” I realized my mistake immediately and, with a quick smile, apologized for the skepticism in my voice. “It’s not that I don’t think it’s great, but South Bass? I never associated South Bass with—”

“Never saw our pilot episode we filmed here last fall, did you?” Noreen wasn’t just happy to show how completely out of it I was, she was downright smug. She crossed the room, flipped open one of the equipment cases, and pulled out an iPad. A few clicks of the keys and she flipped the screen around so I could see it.

Except for the glow of what looked like a gigantic camping lantern on the floor in the center of the scene, the video was dark and grainy, a mishmash of gray and black shadows, and I bent nearer, the better to focus.

“You?” I asked, looking up briefly from the shot of the woman standing just outside the eerie beam of light. “You’re standing behind what looks like—”

“Wine barrels.”

“And this was taken here on South Bass?” It wasn’t really a surprise; there are any number of wineries on the island. “What am I supposed to be watching for?”

“You’ll know it when you see it,” Noreen assured me.

She was right. Fifteen seconds in, there was a movement to Noreen’s left that reminded me of the wave of heat that comes off a candle. It rippled and shifted, and the shadows darkened for a moment. That giant lantern-like object in front of Noreen flashed, and a second later—

“You’re kidding me, right?”

I stared at the screen for a couple seconds, then stood up straight and fastened the same sort of sucker punched look to Noreen while I repeated myself. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Want to see it again?” Before I could tell her I did, she restarted the video and this time, just like last time, I saw what I thought it was impossible to see.

In those couple seconds after the light flashed, a figure materialized out of nowhere.

It was a man. I could tell that much from the cut of his clothes. He was tall and completely transparent and he was missing—

I swallowed hard. “Where’s his head?”

Noreen clicked out of the video. “No head.”

“And he’s a—”

“He is the best video evidence of a full-body apparition anybody anywhere has ever seen.”

“And you—”

“Filmed it last fall. Right here on South Bass. This is the video we showed at a paranormal investigation conference last fall and let me tell you . . .” Noreen’s eyes took on a dreamy look that told me she savored every moment of the memory. “That made the other investigators in our field stand up and take notice. Got the cable networks to finally come to their senses, too. I’d been sending them film of our investigations for years and it showed some good evidence, too. But TV producers, they aren’t interested in what’s good. They only want what’s fantastic. This.” She tapped the iPad. “This is fantastic. This is what got us our show.”

“Because it’s—”

“Like I said, the best video evidence of a full-body apparition anybody anywhere has ever recorded.”

In an effort to clear it, I shook my head. “A ghost here on South Bass?”

Noreen tossed her head. “Not into island legends, are you? It’s why we came out to the middle of nowhere last year in the first place. You know, because of the legend.”

“Of the headless ghost.”

She slapped my back so hard, I nearly toppled. “You got that right, girlfriend. And that’s exactly why we came back this year. You know, to get more evidence. We’re headed out to find the ghost of Sleepy Harlow.”